


Odd Comforts

by nire



Series: The Cosmic Conspiracy [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Slytherin!Liz, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-12-12 12:20:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11736933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nire/pseuds/nire
Summary: A companion piece to The Universe Conspires.“Aww, my baby snake is hatching.”“You’re younger than me, MJ.”“True, but I also give less shit.” Then, MJ adds, “Seriously though, good for you.”





	Odd Comforts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [enchantedsleeper](https://archiveofourown.org/users/enchantedsleeper/gifts).



> This is a companion piece to my Peter/MJ Soulmate AU story The Universe Conspires. You probably need to read that one first to understand this one, unless you like to live dangerously.
> 
> I wrote this in one sitting and it's 3:22 AM and I have work in the morning. I need help.
> 
> Oh, and if it looks like a Mean Girls reference, it probably is.

Liz Allan is a good girl.

She always has been.

It’s not hard, being a good girl. She has a set of moral codes, and it largely falls within the boundaries of socially-accepted behavior. She also has a bleeding heart, more than she lets on, so it’s not like she fakes her niceness. She just has to keep the nastier parts of herself tucked away, because that makes people uncomfortable. People like her because they are comfortable around her, and when people like her, they are more likely to give her what she wants. She doesn’t abuse this trait of hers, because again, she has morals. But it is a perk.

So when Peter Parker leaves her at Homecoming, Liz smiles and laughs and says, _it’s fine._ _I’m sure he has his reasons._ And she knows he does have his reasons, she just can’t fathom what. She doesn’t let on that she is confused and more than a bit hurt, though. Instead, she has fun. She dances with Betty, who comes alone. She even sips a bit of the spiked punch with Michelle, who seems to be there just to watch the others. It isn’t as bad a night as she thought it would be.

But then it becomes the worst night. Spider-Man arrests her father, and that makes her angry for a moment, but then her father turns out to be an arms dealer—worse, an _alien_ arms dealer—and she isn’t sure what to feel anymore. She sheds a few tears, because it’s frustrating, but no more, because she can’t break down when her mother is practically inconsolable, because how are you supposed to react when your soulmate is revealed to be someone he is not?

(It turns out, later, that Adrian Toomes has always been the same man he claims to be. Loves his family fiercely and will do anything for them. Knowing that doesn’t make Doris feel better, but Liz stays quiet, because she secretly understands, even though she disapproves.)

Liz receives texts from everyone, and initially she tries to reply to all of them, but then it all becomes too much. She thinks of chucking her phone out of the window, but doesn’t, because their assets might be seized soon and they might not be able to afford another phone. Instead, she writes a carefully-worded statement to post on all her social media and group chats.

She considers just posting it, but then before her mind catches up with her hands, she sends it to Betty and Michelle with a note: _does this sound ok?_

Betty has nothing to add to the statement, but she sends a lot of heart and crying emojis, ended with _*HUG*_. Michelle corrects Liz’ grammar and punctuation in three separate sentences.

> Michelle Jones: _I’d be ashamed of you any other time but I guess you’ve got a reason to mess up your semicolons_
> 
> Michelle Jones: _Also I told the Decathlon kids to shut up and not bother you_
> 
> Michelle Jones: _You’re welcome_

It’s oddly comforting, somehow, and after Liz posts the statement, the noise dies down considerably and she feels like she could breathe again.

 

* * *

 

The house in Portland, Oregon that was to be her parents’ retirement home is under her mother’s name. When Doris Allan suggests they move there, Liz agrees. It’s hard for the both of them to be there, surrounded by tarnished memories, constantly under the scrutiny of rubber-necked neighbors. When Liz walks down the halls of Midtown, she can hear whispers abruptly stop. She has become a punchline and an interruption. It’s maddening.

But she smiles and put on a brave face. Hugs everyone and tells them she would miss them. She lies to all but Betty, but it’s a harmless lie. A white lie. She will miss _before,_ but she will not miss this. There aren’t many loose ends, either. She was about to retire from her clubs after Homecoming, because she’s in her senior year and finals are looming on the horizon. She just has to speed up her plans, now.

She sits with Michelle and passes on the baton. There isn’t much fanfare to it, as the decision has been an obvious one. Michelle is the only one who can control the rest, Mr. Harrington included, though her and Liz’ methods differ. Liz’ particular brand of manipulation is kindness. Michelle’s is intimidation, not out of cruelty, but out of the sheer gravity of her personality. Michelle prefers to play the observer, but Liz thinks it’s a waste of talent.

Michelle asks for advice, and the question is worded and delivered nonchalantly, but Liz knows she wouldn’t ask if she didn’t mean to listen to her answer. Michelle isn’t one to do things out of courtesy.

So, Liz takes a leap of chance. She tells Michelle to fix the weird thing between her and Peter, or use it somehow, so that he pulls his weight in Decathlon.

Liz feels horrifying regret right after she says it; she’s so conditioned to never show this part of her, not even Betty has heard her speak so candidly. It’s fine, she tells herself, it’s not like she’s going to stay here for long.

But Michelle tells Liz to call her MJ instead, and asks Liz how long she’s been hiding the fact that she’s a Slytherin.

The answer is her whole life, since before she knew what a Slytherin is. After she was introduced to Harry Potter, she made three different Pottermore accounts just to get Ravenclaw, and that’s the result she posted on Facebook and Twitter.

But that’s too much sharing for one afternoon, so Liz squeezes MJ’s hand and wishes her luck.

 

* * *

 

Portland is fine. It’s not Queens; there’s no web-slinging superhero, no streets that remind Liz of her father teaching her to drive, no constant blaring news about her father’s trial. In that sense, Portland is more than fine. Portland is freaking fantastic.

Everyone looks at her warily, but it’s mostly sympathetic. They must have googled her, because they all carefully maneuver the small talk away from her father, but the incident is separate from their daily lives. No one knows about how she was ditched by her date on Homecoming the night her dad was caught, or how she used to throw parties in her suburban house. It’s easy to fall into her usual performance, though she is careful not to get too close to anyone just yet.

Two weeks or so since she moved, MJ emails her a set of spreadsheets with ‘thanks for the tip’ on the subject line. Pride blooms in Liz’ heart when she sees that the spreadsheets detail the performance of every decathlete, including Peter’s, who’s clearly fallen into line.

Liz replies, congratulating MJ on her good work, and thinks no more about it.

Then, later that night, MJ calls her.

“MJ? What’s wrong?”

“I thought you should know, rules of feminism and all.” Beat. “So, Peter’s my soulmate.”

Of all the things, Liz expects this the least, and so she laughs and laughs and laughs. Then, when she’s done catching her breath, she says, “Oh, that explains _so much_.”

MJ doesn’t sound amused, which to be fair is her default mode, but she sounds particularly un-amused when she says, “Does it, now.”

“Let me guess. You never talked to him before because he said your words and you, hmm, I bet you hate the concept of soulmates because you’re anti-establishment. But then sometime around Washington Monument you slipped, and it became weird.”

“I get why you hid the whole Slytherin thing now, because it can be fucking creepy,” MJ says, though her tone is more exasperated than uncomfortable.

“You’re telling me. You got him to pull his weight, that’s got to take some cunning.”

“I did no such thing. I printed the spreadsheet and convinced him, with hard data, that he’s underperforming.”

“How very Ravenclaw of you,” Liz teases.

“Okay. Fine. I might have mentioned that it’s part of your last will and testament.”

“Oof. You don’t pull your punches, do you?”

“If I did, would you have made me captain?”

That’s a good point. Still, one question remains. “So, the soulmate situation is fixed now?”

“It will never be fixed until humankind is freed from it.”

Liz knows an evasion when she hears it. Pushing would make MJ uncomfortable. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

There’s an obvious relief in MJ’s voice when she says, “Thanks.”

“Anytime. And MJ?”

“Hmm?”

“Anytime you want talk, you can call me. You know that, right? It doesn’t have to be about Decathlon.”

“I know. Oh, by the way, I’m changing your contact name on my phone. Bye.” Then, MJ hangs up.

Within seconds, Liz receives a screenshot of her contact in MJ’s phone, now named ‘Lizz Lizz Motherfucker’, followed by three snake emojis.

 

* * *

 

> MJ: _He kissed me help_
> 
> Liz Allan: _I don’t see where the problem is_
> 
> MJ: _It’s making me feel things_
> 
> MJ: _I don’t like it_
> 
> MJ: _Also he’s weirdly good at it like where tf did he practice_
> 
> Liz Allan: _still not seeing the problem, MJ_

* * *

 

> Peter Parker: _liz did you talk to mj cause she wont talk to me_
> 
> Liz Allan: _you’re too good at kissing_
> 
> Peter Parker: _??????????_

* * *

 

When Liz graduates, she gets accepted in a number of universities, but ends up choosing Portland State University just so she can still stay with her mother. She’s taking Conflict Resolution, which seems to particularly amuse MJ.

“Like you don’t already have a doctoral for that,” MJ says.

She has a point, but it’s the first time Liz ever makes a life-altering decision without putting anyone else’s comfort first. Everyone expects her to do something science-related, but she actually wants to study Conflict Resolution. She tells MJ that.

“Aww, my baby snake is hatching.”

“You’re younger than me, MJ.”

“True, but I also give less shit.” Then, MJ adds, “Seriously though, good for you.”

 

* * *

 

On the first day of orientation, Liz stops by a coffee shop near the campus. She picks up her coffee, turns away from the counter—

—and promptly bumps into someone, spilling her iced coffee all over the floor and the front of her top.

“Oh, shit—I’m so sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going—wait a sec, I have a spare T-shirt you can use,” says the stranger.

Liz’ mind screeches to a halt. She knows those words; they curl around her ribs, written in a precise handwriting.

The stranger is rummaging inside her huge handbag, her straight blond hair falling into a curtain that obscures her face. When she straightens up, a folded PSU tee in her hand, Liz is struck by how ridiculously pretty she is, with her large green eyes and freckled nose.

“Are you okay?” Even her voice is pleasant; husky with an undertone of _something_ that sends shivers up Liz’ spine.

“Yes, it’s just—wow—that’s very prepared of you to have an extra tee.”

The stranger smiles wide, the corners of her eyes wrinkling in mirth. “Would you believe me if I said I’ve been carrying one around for years just so someone will say that to me?”

And whoa, Liz is quickly becoming a cliché with how twitterpated this girl is making her. She grew up surrounded by stories of people meeting their soulmate and it feels like the world is suddenly aligned right, like everything is how it’s meant to be. Even her parents were like that. But then there are the other stories, like Betty knowing who her soulmate is but too scared to approach her, or MJ’s now-infamous attempt to dodge her fate with Peter. She had turned into a bit of a skeptic, but then this happens.

“I’m Gwen Stacy, junior year Biology,” says the girl, and even her name feels right, and Liz suddenly understands MJ’s and Betty’s side of the story too, because this feels like losing her mind and it’s terrifying.

 

* * *

 

> Liz Allan: _met my soulmate today_
> 
> MJ: _Serial killer or nah_
> 
> Liz Allan: _jury’s still out on that one_
> 
> Liz Allan: _she’s like really hot tho_
> 
> MJ: _The ones with the most victims are usually the hottest_

* * *

 

> Liz Allan: _update_
> 
> Liz Allan: _Gwen’s not a serial killer_
> 
> Liz Allan: _but her dad’s a cop and I don’t think he’s gonna like having a perp’s daughter near his daughter_
> 
> MJ: _Just don’t hiss around him_
> 
> Liz Allan: _real helpful, MJ_

 

* * *

 

MJ calls her.

“Seriously, though,” MJ says, her voice hushed because it’s past midnight and no doubt everyone at her home is asleep, “are you okay?”

Liz laughs, because that’s what she does when she’s _not_ okay. “Yes. You’ll like Gwen.” She doesn’t say that no matter how perfect a human being her soulmate could be, there is a part of her that is still terrified by the mere idea of having her entire life entwined with this person she just knew.

There’s a long pause before MJ answers. “I fucking swear, if you become _that_ couple, I will fly to Portland and slap you.”

Somehow, that is exactly what Liz needs to hear, and she blurts out, “See, that’s why I love you.”

“Ugh, whatever,” MJ replies, and Liz can almost hear her rolling her eyes. And then, just before hanging up, MJ says, “You’re not so bad yourself, baby snake.”

And it’s a silly, sentimental feeling, but Liz thinks she’ll be fine as long as MJ is around.

**Author's Note:**

> As usual, let me know what you think. <3


End file.
